Porcelain
by Sandwich Shop Mayo
Summary: Fate kept spinning its web despite the end of the world.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: Not mine, just playing with them. _  
_Spoilers: None, just making shit up. More people should write for this ship, seriously.__ They were freaking adorable in issue 97.  
_

...

Andrea felt something hit the back of her head.

Not hard; light. She turned around and looked down in time to see a small twig hit the ground. She looked up with a frown. Rick stood there, pretending nothing had happened.

"Idiot," she said, picking up a bunch of dead leaves and throwing them at him. They were so light they fell to the ground halfway to meet him.

He chuckled lightly. "Good job."

"Oh, hush."

She ignored him and continued walking. The forest was too quiet. Before this all happened that would've freaked her out. She'd been a Girl Scout for all of five days. The minute they forced her to go into that first camping trip she quit immediately. The forest had been so quiet, so eerie, so freaky... ugh.

But she cherished the silence now. When it was quiet like this it meant they could hear better, ward themselves off against danger. Silence gave them an advantage.

They reached their rendezvous point minutes later. Daryl wasn't there yet. She sighed in frustration for what the next few minutes would be like. "He's late."

Rick looked at his old watch. Like that made any difference. Like Daryl knew what time it was, anyway. "No, he's not," he told her, noticing her impatience. "_We're_ too early."

Andrea sighed again, finding a bare tree stump and sitting on it. She crossed her legs and tried not to worry or think of the worst. But that was merely an excuse, a way for her to keep her mind busy and not think about the tension that sure enough, crept up on them again like clockwork. It made her foot begin to twitch and she looked down at the ground. This had been happening too often and it infuriated her. She hated feeling this thrown off, this... exposed, naked.

Rick leaned his shoulder against a tree, facing her. Unlike her, he felt calm. He studied her each time. This time, she had several guns strapped to her as well as his rifle. But she had her damn legs crossed like a proper lady, sitting there all dainty and charming.

It made Rick chuckle.

She looked up at him with a frown. "What?"

He shook his head, "nothing."

_Fuck this_, Andrea thought. Not this, here, again. Why did he always have to do this?

She looked down at her fingers, studying them like she'd never seen them before. A reason to look busy; like she wasn't thinking about what was happening at that moment. She could feel his eyes on her. She felt them on her too often as of late. Whether they were surrounded by people or alone like now... she didn't know when it started. For months and months he'd only been The Married Cop Who Was Also Their Dum Dum of a Leader.

Somewhere down the line it changed. Somewhere down the line they'd started flirting.

I'd been meaningless at first. Him teasing her about her putting guns to his face all the time. She'd tease him about his stupid uniform and that ridiculous hat. But really, she'd only done it out of retaliation. She couldn't have known it would grow into this. She couldn't have known it meant something.

She blamed herself, really. She did. She'd been too naive at first, and had participated because she thought he was just teasing, like Daryl teased her, like she teased Glenn.

But he hadn't been teasing her. It'd always been flirting from his side; she just didn't realize it until it was too late. And now it'd snowballed into something unbearably tense. This went beyond 'elephant in the room'. It was so intense the elephant couldn't stand it anymore and ran far, far away, leaving them to deal with it.

She still felt his eyes on her. She never knew what to do during those moments. She'd always prided herself on being one of the cool ones. Strong and put together. Collected. In fact, it was always _her_ intimidating the opposite gender. It had never been like this with a guy. And she hated it, hated him for getting her like this and hated herself for allowing him.

"Where _is_ he?" she finally said and it kinda broke the spell. He looked away from her and around the perimeter.

"You know Daryl," Rick told her.

It did nothing to alleviate everything that she was feeling, her worry for Daryl and this ridiculous thing between her and Rick.

She decided it would make things better if she just paced around.

But that meant movement. And movement meant attention. And attention meant he started to look at her again.

She could feel his eyes on her. She could always feel his eyes on her. It had been happening too often but it needed to end.

Andrea didn't know what took over her, but suddenly she approached him. He looked at her with a smirk on his face, and that stupid little smile made her feel even more angry and determined.

"Rick, this needs to stop, okay?" She spoke in half hushed tones, like anyone could hear them.

"What needs to stop?"

Andrea sighed in frustration. Her hand instinctively reached for one of her guns; she wanted to shoot him right there and then. "You know well enough."

She was a ball of frustration. He was a mess of desperation that showed up in the form of mock aloofness. "I do, don't I."

"Yes, you do," she said assertively and to hell with discretion. To hell with secrecy and modesty. She was nipping this right in the bud and to hell with insinuation. "All this flirting, the looks..."

He didn't say anything, just looked down at the ground and dropped all pretenses. In a way he was stunned that she was being so forward about it, but in a way he was not. This was Andrea, after all. She didn't skirt around the issues. She faced them straight on.

She looked at him and felt sorry, so sorry, for being such a bitch to him when he probably only just needed someone. But she needed this to end, for their protection, for Carl's protection, for all four of them, including _her_. Maybe that was it, and she tried to reach for that. "I'm sorry if you and Lori are having problems—"

He shook his head right away. "It's not about Lori—"

He muttered it so quietly that she didn't hear it. "—but this... I need it to end. Because it's going nowhere, so it's just annoying."

Rick finally looked up at her, took a deep breath and leaned back further into the tree. Feeling a deep, distant hurt at her choice of words. "Annoying?"

"Yes," she sighed. Annoying wasn't the word, really. But she was too taken aback by her own outburst and thoughts weren't making much sense. She started out strong and assertive and quickly shriveled into something small and soft as she continued and ended up nearly begging. "It throws me off and I can't have that, because it's nothing. You keep distracting me. I can't be distracted, not here."

He studied her for a second, eyes burning holes into her face. He didn't miss the way her hands were shaking and how she avoided eye contact. She was nervous and trying so hard to hide it. His voice grew softer and lower. "You think it's nothing?"

Andrea looked at him and when their eyes met there was electricity. Wasn't the first time she'd felt that. She wasn't stupid. She knew that she was as guilty as he. After all, even after she realized the teasing wasn't teasing but flirting, she didn't make it stop. She should've, and she always tried, but hell if she could.

She wasn't stupid nor was she a fool. She found herself staring at him as often as he stared at her. But it was different. He had too much going on, too much baggage. He had a family that she would never, in a million years, hurt for her own selfish needs.

After gaining her confidence, she stepped up. "Yeah, it's nothing." Blindly, she reached for his left hand and brought it up. She lifted his ring finger between their eyes and wobbled his wedding ring in her fingers. "_This_ makes it nothing."

She dropped his hand before he could say anything and walked away to sit at the stump again. Legs crossed. He kept his hand down and looked at the golden, wedding band.

"Do you just forget it's there?" she told him softly, taking in that unreadable expression on his face when he looked at it. "Because that ring is all I see when I look at you."

He didn't say anything, just stood there digesting the words. They switched roles and she studied _him_ for a while. That confident, boyish grin was all gone now, replaced with a harsh realization. In the beginning, it'd been fun. Hell, maybe it started as teasing on his part, too. Maybe in the beginning he saw her as a little sister that he liked to torment. Maybe he hadn't counted on it to grow into something.

He stood there turning the ring round and round with his thumb and she felt so miserable for him she wanted to walk up there and apologize and comfort him. But she couldn't do that. She knew she needed to stay away from him, far away from him, because this thing between them... it needed to be over.

Thankfully, Daryl crawled out of the bushes seconds later, the redneck carrying several dead animals on his back.

Andrea rose from her seat and walked up to him. "You're late."

Daryl frowned at her. "I ain't late."

"Yes you are," Andrea said as she continued walking.

Daryl followed her. Rick trailed behind, listening to their bickering. Daryl and Andrea were always bickering, but it was light, funny; like they were two five year olds tormenting each other for the sake of entertainment. Bickering was their way of telling each other, _'I love you.'_

"Yeah, what time is it, then?" Daryl said to her, pushing her away with a shove.

She clicked her tongue in annoyance and pushed him back. "Quarter past kiss my ass, Daryl."

Normally Rick would've chuckled at the scene. Instead, he looked up at her and tried to still digest everything she'd said to him mere minutes before.

"Sup with her?" Daryl asked him, sensing this wasn't like all the times they'd teased each other. Andrea seemed legitimately annoyed and when Rick didn't reply, Daryl narrowed his eyes.

Rick and Andrea were good students. 'A' students. But nerds. 'A' students because they were learners, read a lot. Daryl was an 'A' student, too, but in a different way. He was the type of student that never studied for a test but then showed up and nailed it right away. And as he walked along Rick and Andrea he did that. Just showed up late and aced the test.

But he wouldn't boast about his grade. He feigned ignorance and followed them, and when they reached camp, for the first time since he joined the group, his eyes landed on Lori first. She sat right next to Carol, gossiping as usual, and when Rick greeted her she barely looked up and didn't really acknowledge her husband.

Daryl shrugged his mental shoulders and retrieved to his cove. He didn't give a shit about any of this but was secretly glad he knew more than all of them. Because no one else would keep their secrets. He would. He would take them to his grave.

...

Andrea thought she'd triumphed, because for days and days there was no flirting. There were no secret glances. None that she could feel, anyway. She began to breathe easier, feel better, more put together.

But for some reason quite the opposite happened to Rick. Happened to Rick _and_ Lori.

They began to argue again. Sometimes Andrea lay in bed and heard them screaming. Lori, mostly, but every once in a while Rick yelled something back. It went on and on like this, first maybe once a week, then twice, then suddenly every night.

She began to feel guilty. For what, she didn't know but that feeling was there. She should've felt pride instead, because she made their little... thing, stop. But she didn't feel pride. She felt guilty because she soon realized that Rick was losing himself. Guilty because she realized that in a sick, twisted way, flirting with her kept _their_ marriage together. Kept _him_ together. Without her, Rick no longer had an anchor, and now he was drowning and she knew it wasn't her fault, but she felt guilty nonetheless.

A week later, Rick and Lori finally stopped screaming. Andrea breathed a sigh of relief. It kinda hurt, in a deep, hidden corner of her heart. But a corner so hidden she really didn't feel the pain of losing what they'd had. And it would be better this way. For Carl.

...

In the end it all happened because she was so stupid.

They were fighting against a new human threat. A nameless group of unknown numbers. Firing at them for God knows what reasons. She stood right by him as she always did, shooting back.

It was only happenstance.

Rick happened to shout something at them that she didn't catch. Too many bullets and too much noise. She looked at him for a second, _only_ a second, to ask him what he'd said. It was only then that she noticed it. His left hand, pressed to the side of his pistol. His ring finger, bare.

It took her aback and it was the stupidest thing she could've done, to stop shooting and take one step back as she stared at him. It was stupidity on her part. Stupid, stupid, stupid Andrea who always felt before she thought.

"Rick?"

He looked at her for a second.

"Your—"

But she never got the chance to finish the sentence. At that very same moment that she opened her mouth a bullet flew across the fields with one sole purpose and it filled that purpose flawlessly. It pierced into her skin and reddened her chest in a mere blink and the second it happened it felt fated. Then everything went black.

_TBC_


	2. Chapter 2

Andrea fell backwards, yelping in pain as her body hit the ground and her chest became wet with red all over.

_No, no, no, no, no..._

Rick's heart sank and he fell on top of her, his fingers instantly ripping her shirt apart so he could assess the damage. It was the cop in him. Think first, feel later. It'd been so imprinted in him that he got to work immediately and let the grief take a back seat.

She moaned in pain and he shushed her with words that meant nothing but came out of him in a tangled mess. They only made sense in his head where it was, "It's okay, Andrea. Shh. Let me see, honey. It's okay," but he couldn't have known what he was saying out loud.

The wound lay right above her left breast and it was leaking red. He wiped at it, but another round flow of red came rushing out. He felt a wave of panic coming for him but he forced it back, knowing he couldn't afford to lose it. Andrea couldn't afford it.

So his mind went blank and first aid training took over. He remembered the classroom and the old the teacher. He went back there. Shane sat next to him, doodling obscene cartoons. Rick sat there, listening. He remembered those lectures now: _left side - lungs, stomach, pancreas, heart, what else?  
_

_Still alive, though: not the heart._

_Too high up: not the pancreas._

_She wasn't spitting out blood._

_Left lung. But still breathing easy. Not wheezing. Not her lung._

But the blood continued to pour out too fast. He pressed against it to stop the flow and she screamed in pain.

"It's okay," he kept telling her. He knew he probably needed to move her, take her back, but bullets continued to fly above them. If they stood up they'd both get shot. That couldn't happen. They weren't over.

But the seconds stretched into lifetimes and his body trembled, crushed by the helplessness and the desperation. A horrible mix, those two emotions. Wanting to do something and not being able to. Wanting to fix her but not knowing how and there were tears on her face he wanted gone, but there was nothing he could _do_. Nothing.

His bloody hand rested against her cheek. "Andrea, _look_ at me."

She did and with so much pain, so scared, so desperate he couldn't fucking deal with it. "Rick," she begged him.

"It's okay," it was all he could say and fuck, it was just the _worst_ thing he could say. Because it _wasn't_ okay. But he knew how strong she was and begged her, with his eyes, to stay with him. She survived the end of the world, survived the CDC, and then survived the farm. She could get through this. He needed her to.

But her breathing began to shallow and her body began to shake. She had a chance, he knew that. The wound wasn't life threatening, not yet. But she'd never been shot and her mind made everything much worse. She started to panic and hyperventilate, her pulse quick, and that made the blood flow out faster.

"Andrea, _stop_," he ordered her harshly like he was ordering her to go on a scouting trip with Glenn or scolding her for making a mistake. "You have to relax. Take a deep breath. Deep breaths."

But she wasn't hearing him. She continued to breathe fast and her skin was shaking. She was having a panic attack and it was killing her. Finally, unable to take it any longer and seeing no other way, he pressed on the wound so hard that her body stilled and she passed out.

Rick thanked the heavens that she was unconscious, because her body then calmed and the blood loss slowed down considerably. But her skin was still pale and blood still pooled all around him. She was going to need a transfusion and he didn't know her blood type. Why didn't he know her blood type? He was the leader, he should've asked _everyone's_ blood type right off the bat. It'd never occurred to him to ask them all but now it seemed so important, something they all should know about themselves.

Nothing he could do, though. Nothing but to press down on her wound and hopefully stop the bleeding. He wanted to do more, much more, but his body soon began to shake again at the reminder that they were in this new world and there was nothing he could do. He couldn't call 911, he couldn't drive her to the hospital, he couldn't take her to a doctor. They didn't even _have_ a doctor, just an old veterinarian who knew more about cows than he knew about human anatomy.

Finally, silence engulfed him. No more bullets. No more shouting. No more of Andrea's cries. No more noise. For a moment he thought he'd died with her, but then he heard Daryl behind him.

"Think we got the last of them. Rick?"

Rick barely turned his head back. "Get Hershel."

"What? Why?" Daryl questioned him but as he took a few steps forward and swallowed the scene, he quickly turned around with a heavy mutter, "oh, _shit_."

Hershel had taken a part of the battle and in his late age, it'd taken all his energy. But he pushed on as he approached Rick, kneeling by Andrea and inspecting her wound. Rick pulled his hand back and he saw the injury then. A small bullet wound, but the skin surrounding it was quickly turning purple. So quickly that he could see the color of lilac spreading all across her chest like a blooming flower.

The minute the others became players in the scene he let go. He turned his back on the cop and became the man. The man who'd looked at her knowingly in that forgotten department store back in Atlanta. The man who had stood by her for close to a year now, had learned so much about her (yet still not enough). The minute the others took over he became the man who threw her secret glances and felt something in his chest every time she smiled.

Hershel barked some random orders that he couldn't hear because all he saw was purple and red and now he was just a man. And then he was on his feet, not knowing how, but not holding her anymore. Daryl held her instead, picked her up into his arms easily and quickly ran after Hershel. Rick struggled to keep up, and when he finally reached Hershel's room the old man already had her in his bed.

Before the turn her wound would've been meaningless. She would've been discharged from the hospital in less than 24 hours with a prescription for Vicodin.

It was different these days. They barely had any medical equipment. Hell, they had NO medical equipment. Just a knife and fire from a candle. Hershel got to work right away with what he had, dipping his knife into the fire to sterilize it and cutting away at her skin. No medical equipment meant no sedatives, no anesthesia, no medication, so when the hot knife dug deep into her skin, Andrea shrieked loudly, screaming in pain despite being unconscious. Rick reached her side and grabbed her hand, crooning comforts at her just as he'd done in the field. They didn't help. She continued to move and squirm under the fire of Hershel's knife.

"You need to hold her down," Hershel told him. He tried, he really did. But the pain was so intense that her body reacted on sheer instinct and she continued to squirm.

Daryl stepped in, too, pinning her other side and T-Dog had to step in to hold her legs down. The three of them barely made a difference; she kept crying and squirming away from the knife. Rick was in agony the whole time. He just closed his eyes as he held her down, hoping Hershel would finish quickly so her suffering could end.

Daryl felt the agony, too. So upset by Andrea's pain that he couldn't even look at the scene, just pressed his cheek to her shoulder and looked down at the mattress. "Come _on_, old man, just get it _over_ with!"

Hershel tried to work as fast as he could, digging deep into her as she screamed, and finally finding the bullet. When he did, he grabbed it with his fingers because they'd only been living in this house two weeks and they didn't even have tweezers. The bullet landed on a plate with a _clink_ and his hands quickly tried to repair the damage.

It hadn't pierced any organs, but its intrusion had resulted in the loss of a great amount of blood. Unfortunately, nobody knew Andrea's blood type, and even if they did they didn't have the equipment needed for a transfusion. So Hershel stitched her up and hoped her strength would see her through this.

As he washed his hands off the blood Rick approached him and Hershel felt the exhaustion immediately. He didn't wait for Rick to ask. He, like Daryl, knew certain things. "One inch lower and she wouldn't be here."

Rick sighed. But that sigh could never possibly express what he was feeling at the moment. Hershel saw, anyway, and Rick patted the old man's shoulder in appreciation. "Thanks, Hershel."

"I sent Glenn and Maggie back to town, see if they can find anything that might help," Hershel said and Rick nodded a thank you. He'd been so distracted by Andrea that it hadn't even occurred to him to send a team out. Thankfully Daryl and Hershel were there as backups, because there was no way he had the mental, physical, or emotional energy to be a leader at that moment.

"I know that one," Hershel added with a nod that evinced the knowledge that came with old age. "She's gonna wanna get up. Don't let her move. Wounds are easy enough to heal. Infections are not. If she gets that wound infected that's it for her."

Rick nodded. He would chain her down to the bed if he had to. "Got it."

"Come get me if something happens," Hershel said.

"Yeah, sure," Rick said on autopilot. "Goodnight."

There was nowhere else to go. Being away from her wasn't an option. He walked into the darkened room that Hershel had vacated to spend the night at Maggie's because no one wanted to move Andrea. His body landed on a chair next to the bed and he sighed heavily. He rested his hand under his chin and the stench of iron overwhelmed him and nearly made him heave.

It was only then that he realized his hands were still covered in her blood and the sight made him nauseous. He rushed to the bathroom and washed his hands, watching that red drip down the drain. There was blood on his face, too, on his neck, all over his shirt. He got rid of it immediately, leaving it in the trash, knowing there was no way he would be able to wear it again without remembering what happened that day. He found one of Glenn's clean ones, slipped it on, and went back in there to sit on that chair that had his name written all over it.

She still slept, her mouth only partly open. Her skin was pale and the dark circles under her eyes were huge. Rick swallowed hard, trying not to think of the worst. Andrea was always so full of life, full of energy and fire. Her thirst for being was so infectious that every time he was around her it wrapped him up and he felt such an overwhelming lust for life. She always did that; she always made him want to live. And now, seeing her there, looking so dead...

He lurched forward to grab her hand. It was warm and he felt a pang of fear. If she got a fever, that meant infection, and infection meant death for sure. Andrea couldn't die, though. Well, Andrea _could_ die. They could _all_ die. They _would_ all die eventually. He wasn't scared because she could die. He was a wreck because he couldn't lose her. She was free to leave this Earth and go off somewhere to rest in peace. But she couldn't leave him like this, when so many unspoken words and touches of affection had been denied by his stupid conscience.

Rick didn't believe in God, not anymore. But as he sat there, he prayed. He didn't deserve God's mercy should the man be up there, but he asked for it, anyway. He asked for a second chance.

_TBC_


	3. Chapter 3

Hershel woke him up in the morning. The old man hadn't meant to, but he needed to change Andrea's dressings. Rick woke with a deep sigh, looking around quickly to locate himself. It took him a while, but the sight of Andrea still in that bed made the reality of the previous day smack him over the head.

"You should get some sleep, Rick. Go stay with Carl. I can take care of her," Hershel told him.

"No," Rick said. His voice was raspy and he cleared his throat. "I'm fine."

Hershel didn't push it. He hadn't known Rick for long, but he knew him well enough. Suddenly remembered when Carl had been shot. Rick kept donating blood until it nearly killed him, so Hershel wasn't surprised by his devotion to Andrea.

Rick felt too much, took everything into his heart first. It was a curse and a blessing, Hershel thought. Rick's empathy made him a good leader, a sensible man that no member of the group feared. But a curse because everything they felt, Rick felt it tenfold, and it wasn't good for his mental state. Andrea felt too much, too, and Hershel didn't have to be a mathematician to add that up and come to the conclusion that these two would be devoted to each other too much and forever. It would save them, but would eventually kill them, too.

He did what he had to do without arguing.

"No fever," Hershel said and Rick let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

"Why isn't she waking?"

"Blood loss, probably," Hershel told him. "Her body can make up for the loss, she just needs time. I just worry about dehydration. I don't have an IV."

Rick looked at the old man. "Can't we just..."

"Force her?" Hershel said. "I don't know. I've never done that, she might choke. I'm not a doctor, Rick. But she's okay for now. Let's just wait and see."

_'Wait and see'._

Rick hated that phrase. He'd heard it so many times when he was a cop. He'd had to escort so many people to the hospital. And it was always those words. Doctors _loved_ saying that. '_Let's just wait and see', _so easily like they were saying, _'let's go bowling!'_

Fuck _wait and see_. He needed to know _now_.

But Hershel didn't have an answer for him. All day he kept coming back into the room to check on Andrea, always with the same tired news, "no fever."

Rick sat there and waited. Carol brought him breakfast and the plate sat on the night table, untouched. She took it back and then brought him lunch. The plate sat there, untouched. She took it back and brought him dinner, and when the plate sat there and she came back she didn't take _no_ for an answer. She sat right there and threatened to stay until he ate all of it.

Rick took a bite to please her, but his stomach was so unsettled he couldn't eat more. Andrea's blood... he could still smell it all over him and it was nauseating. That first and only bite made him want to throw up. He handed her that plate back and she tried to lay down the Mother Law, but he couldn't abide by it.

So she left him alone. Other people showed up. Daryl was the first one, though Rick never felt him there. Daryl had been up with the sun and the first thing he did was check on Andrea. He found Rick sleeping on that chair and Andrea still in bed, pale and delicate like porcelain. He gave Andrea's hand a squeeze before he left, vowing to catch as many animals as he could because she would need to eat a lot to get her strength back.

Glenn and Maggie finally returned from town with a box full of bottles of random medication, most of it useless, but some of it would help Andrea with the pain. Together with T-Dog they came by later, and they sat there telling stories about Andrea and laughing. Rick smiled several times, remembering some of the moments they were talking about, like that one time Andrea screamed loudly and began to run for miles and miles. They'd all chased after her, so worried, and it turned out she had only been running from a bee.

He left the room around noon to check on the activity outside. T-Dog, Daryl, and Glenn were reinforcing the fences. The women were doing their thing. He looked for something to do, something to help with, some kind of distraction, but they had nothing for him and that left him walking back into Hershel's room to re-occupy his spot.

Carl came by later, looking at his father with hope in his eyes. "Dad, Andrea's not gonna die."

Rick looked at his son questioningly.

Carl looked at him with a _duh! _written all over his face. "I asked Daryl, dad. He said she's kick ass and that kick ass people don't die of bullet wounds. I mean, you got shot and you didn't die. And I got shot and I didn't die, either. So she won't die."

Rick chuckled and shook his head. His child's logic made too much sense, but in the end it was only child logic. Reality had no patience for it.

Daryl came back an hour later, carrying one of the recliners from the living room and placing it next to the bed. "Here ya go, chief. Might as well make your ass comfortable," he said as he patted the seat.

When he fell on that chair he thanked God for Daryl Dixon. He reclined the chair back and lay next to her, waiting, catching naps here and there, pacing the hallway outside when his legs fell asleep. Truthfully he was wrecked with regret and guilt. Guilt because after the farm he'd made a vow to protect her and he'd failed. Regret because he'd been such a coward. That first night after Lori, he lay there thinking about the conversation they'd had in the woods. Andrea had all but confirmed she felt the same way, but even after putting his ring away he found he couldn't bring himself to make a move. Too scared to.

And now it could be too late. Every time his watch marked a new minute and she didn't come back was another reminder that she was dying. How could he leave her side? If he lost her he knew it needed to be _him._ It had to be him to put a bullet to her head to make sure she rested peacefully and didn't become a monster.

The shocker came later when Lori showed up, leaning by the door and looking inside with an expression on her face he couldn't read. Funny how quickly they became strangers.

"How is she?"

Rick sighed. Everyone kept asking him that question like he knew the answer. "We won't know until she wakes up," he echoed Hershel's words and added, "_if_ she wakes up."

Lori nodded, taking in the worry lines on his face, the bags under his eyes, his tense shoulders... all there for the woman who lay in that bed. In a weird way, she was glad. Relieved, even. Felt the guilt dissolve a little bit, breathing easier for the first time since that night she told him they were done. She'd been scared he would get lost, break beyond repair. But he didn't, and Lori knew it was because of _her_. She wasn't Andrea's biggest fan, but, well, it was his life and she no longer had a right to question his choices.

"She'll wake up," she told him confidently, though there was no way she could've known. But hey, they'd been in love once upon a time and she owed him the words of comfort. She even went beyond that and added, "Rick, I'm O neg, remember?"

He sighed, smiling at her words. "Hershel doesn't have the right equipment, anyway." Frankly, even if Hershel did he didn't know how he'd feel about that. His ex-wife giving parts of her away to his... Fuck, he didn't even know what Andrea was to him. Not a friend, but not yet a lover. Something in between.

Lori nodded, staring at him and taking him in. This was one of the reasons why they'd never been able to work. Rick was just too emotional. He felt too much. The others were out there, going on about their lives. They all loved Andrea, sure, but they were all so used to losing people. Most of the others were already counting on the loss, including Lori herself, but he there for hours, torturing himself. Even now she wanted to go in there and shake him and slap him over the face.

She shook her head disapprovingly at the sight. "You need to be stronger than this, Rick."

He didn't reply, just looked at Andrea and pressed his fingers to his eyes. He'd heard those words from her before, too many times. Heard them when his father got sick. Heard them every time he'd lose a colleague. Heard them that night when she lost their baby. Maybe not his baby. Shane's baby. It didn't matter. He heard those words all the time and when he forgot them, she always reminded him like she did now. He knew she was right, too, but he just couldn't please her. She wanted him to be someone he couldn't be. He just couldn't be Shane.

Lori didn't wait for a reply, just turned around and walked away, and in a way felt like she was walking away from him forever and giving him to someone else.

Night fell again and Andrea still didn't move. Rick expressed his concern to Hershel but Hershel gave him the same answer. "She lost a lot of blood but she's still here, Rick. Let's just wait and see."

Anger finally took over and he took it out on Hershel. He didn't mean to, but seeing her there so pale, feeling so useless, not being able to do something, never getting any answers... it was too fucking ridiculous.

"Rick," Hershel told him calmly as Rick breathed hard and looked like he was about to punch a wall. "You're gonna get yourself sick if you keep doing this. Go eat something, go for a walk, get some sleep. You think she'd like to see you like this?"

Rick gave no reply, didn't give a shit about food or sleep or going for a walk. He just needed an answer, for someone to fucking tell him, either she's gonna make it or not. He wasn't going to move from that chair until he knew for sure and after several attempts Hershel finally gave up.

After the anger dissipated, he drifted in and out of sleep for hours, thankful for the comfortable recliner Daryl had brought him. He was deep in sleep when he felt some movement. His body shot up immediately and Andrea's eyes were still closed, but she was squeezing his hand and Rick quickly thanked the God he'd stopped believing in.

"Andrea," he whispered and she frowned, moaning softly. He closed his eyes and thanked the heavens again. "Shh, don't move, okay?"

It took her a while to open her eyes, and when she did they were as pale as her skin. She looked around, confused, and Rick suddenly didn't know what to tell her. He didn't wanna scare her, but he didn't want her asking questions and spending all her energy away. And he was so overwhelmed by the moment words wouldn't leave his mouth, anyway.

Her eyes finally landed on him and he smiled reassuringly at her. "Hey, there."

"Rick?"

"Yeah," he said with a chuckle but he couldn't help it. For a while there he didn't think he would ever hear that voice again.

Andrea frowned and closed her eyes. "You look like shit."

He couldn't help laughing and kissing her hand. It wasn't until that moment, until he felt that relief flood through him, that he realized how deep his feelings were. He'd made light of them, truthfully hadn't really seen it, too blinded by all his responsibilities as leader, too distracted by all his problems with Lori.

But he saw it now, clearly. Felt it, the way his heart was jumping up and down in his chest. It was unmistakable. All those hours they'd spent together out there, scouting, exploring, fighting, making each other laugh, running from danger, saving each other's lives over and over again. She kept him from falling apart so many times that he knew this had to be it.

After a few seconds, as she came out of the grogginess a bit more, she felt the pain and moaned. "I'll get Hershel."

"No," she reacted quickly. "Stay."

He felt helpless again, watching her struggle to deal with the pain. He wanted nothing more than to take it from her, bear it himself. He suddenly remembered the stacks of bottles Glenn and Maggie had brought back with them, and he found some ibuprofen and fetched for her a glass of water.

"Easy," he said as she tried to drink, water dripping down to her neck, but he didn't want to move her, fearing he'd make her injury worse.

He wiped the water from her cheeks and neck. As he did her eyes closed and Rick thought she'd fallen asleep again but her eyes opened once more and she gave him a small smile. It made his heart beat fast and he put his hand over her cheek. She reached for it, her fingers finding his ring finger again feeling there. It was still bare.

"What happened?" Andrea questioned him as she looked at his face. He really looked like shit.

He shrugged his shoulders. "What was going to happen before."

"How?"

"Doesn't matter now," he told her. "You're tired. Go to sleep. I'll stay here, okay?"

She shook her head. "You need to get some sleep."

"I'll sleep right here."

"No, Rick," she told him. The drugs were starting to take their effect and she was still suffering from the effects of the blood loss. Her eyes opened and closed slowly and he knew that even though she was awake, she wasn't _really_ awake. "Go to bed."

He gave her a stern look despite himself. "Andrea, there's no way I'm leaving you here alone, no way. That's not an option. I'm only giving you a choice, either _I_ stay or Carol does. That's it."

She closed her eyes and sighed, and the action made her feel the pain again and she frowned at it, also frowned at him. He knew she was annoyed, angry, even, but leaving her there alone? That was never going to happen.

Finally, she opened her eyes and looked at him. "Carol."

Rick nodded, feeling a dull pain at the rejection but he knew why she was doing that. She was making sure he got some sleep. She was there shot, in pain, drugged, and half dead, but she was still trying to take care of him.

He couldn't help it. So what if he felt too much? Screw it. He felt too much for her, for Carl, for the group and he didn't care. He framed her face with both hands, remembering those terrifying minutes she lay on the ground bleeding to death, and he pressed his nose to hers.

But when his mouth was an inch away from hers she flinched away. "Rick, no."

He stopped, looking into her eyes questioningly.

"I won't remember it," Andrea told him and he knew only the drugs and the blood loss were talking, but she still managed to give him a cheeky smile. "I wanna remember it."

He smiled at her reasoning and mentally agreed. He wanted her to remember it, too. He kissed her forehead instead. "Okay."

"Okay," she whispered and drifted away.

_TBC_


	4. Chapter 4

He hated himself the next day when he woke up and it was nearly eleven in the morning, judging by the watch he was so adamant to wear.

He looked around for someone to blame, couldn't believe they'd just let him sleep so late. Scratch that, he _could_ believe it. It's the type of thing these people would do. He knew they only wanted to take care of him, but this was no regular Tuesday morning, or whatever. Andrea was nearly dead just a few hours ago, and they were letting him sleep in? After the theatrics he pulled the day before, didn't they know better?

He washed himself first and knocked on her door second, not knowing what he'd find, but feeling... a little nervous? He shook his head and analyzed all his symptoms. Yeah, he was actually _nervous_. Not that he'd find her dead, but nervous to see her again. Last time he felt that way was in 9th grade when he was trying to muster up the courage to ask his first girlfriend out. _This is ridiculous_, he thought. _You're not 14 anymore, you're a grown man._

"Come in."

It was Carol's voice and Rick smiled. Carol ever the mother, always fussing over Daryl and Andrea like they were her two babies. He pushed the door open and was surprised to see Andrea awake, her body half reclined up, being supported by just about a million pillows. The minute she saw him she smiled at him and he felt his cheeks blush. Carol's little knowing smile made it worse. God, he felt like a teenage girl around her first crush.

"Hi," Andrea said, breathing a little hard and tired, but her eyes were lively.

"Hey," he said, closing the door behind him.

"You look better," she noticed, her eyes looking up and down his body.

Rick sighed and turned to Carol. "I told you to wake me up first thing in the morning."

Carol looked tiny, opened her mouth to explain but Andrea stepped in. "I told her not to."

He looked at her. "Why?"

"Because you needed to rest, Rick," Andrea told him. Her statement made him think Carol had told her all about his devotion from the day before. He couldn't be mad at Carol, though. Who could ever be mad at Carol? Andrea tried to continue with her list of reasons but suddenly her eyes closed and she frowned. "_Ow_!"

Carol rushed to her side and Rick's hand twitched closed into a fist. "You okay, sweetie?" Carol said.

"Yeah," Andrea moaned, closing her eyes and waiting for the pain to pass. Rick approached the bed and she reached for his hand, and when he offered it she squeezed hard. His thumb stroked her skin.

"Glenn and Maggie went out again, came back with some Percocet," Carol told him then turned to Andrea. "Do you need another one?"

"No, I'm okay," Andrea said, trying to breathe the pain away.

"Are you sure?" Rick asked her. He was still traumatized by her surgery, watching her there crying out in pain, not being able to do anything about it... Groundhog Day.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she said, finally taking one last deep breath and opening her eyes again.

Rick turned to Carol. "Has she eaten anything?"

"Just one bite," Carol told him, pointing at the still full breakfast plate on the night table that Andrea had refused. "It hurts when she swallows."

"Water?"

"Yeah, she's hydrated, Hershel said."

"The wound?"

"_Hello_! I'm right here," Andrea said.

Rick chuckled and looked down at her. "I know, but if I ask _you_, you're just gonna lie and say you're fine."

She made a face at him and he made one back and Carol sat there feeling like the world's biggest third wheel. She tried to pretend she didn't notice the way their eyes were sparkling or how tight their fingers were twined together. Andrea had been in a sour mood just minutes before but then Rick walked through that door suddenly she was Little Miss Sunshine. Carol had been watching them for a while now, worried about what it might mean for the group, but now that Rick and Lori were no longer together, she figured it was fine. Happiness wasn't necessarily in abundance these days and when they found some she knew they needed to hang onto it.

Seconds later she chuckled when Rick's stomach growled loudly.

"I'll bring you some breakfast," Carol said, rising to her feet. "You better eat it this time."

Rick smiled at her. "Thanks, Carol."

"Uh-huh," Carol hummed, patting his shoulder as she walked out.

Rick occupied her spot with a sigh. Andrea closed her eyes, feeling the exhaustion coming to claim her. She'd been up since 6. She tried to fight it and drifted for a couple of seconds but then came back. When she opened her eyes he sat there looking at her the way he did so many times in the past. This time she smiled.

"You do look better," she whispered at him, trying to fight the exhaustion.

Rick smiled, taking her in. "So do you."

"I'm glad she didn't wake you up. You should've seen her. She was so nervous that you were gonna yell at her. Poor Carol," Andrea said.

He smiled, ignoring her concern for Carol. He leaned forward instead, his head close to her shoulder and he picked up a strand of her hair. It was then that he noticed all the blood still in her blonde locks and he grimaced at it. He made a mental note to ask Carol to wash her later. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Rick, I'm fine," she told him. "I'm not gonna lie, it hurts like a son of a bitch, but it'll go away eventually."

He smiled at her words, envying her strength. He grabbed one of her hands, brought it up to his face and kissed it like he did so many times while she was on the verge of death. But this time, instead of a blank expression, he was rewarded with a smile. He kept that hand close to his mouth and showered it with kisses to make up for everything else he wanted to kiss, do, or say to her.

She looked down suddenly, the wheels in that head turning. When she looked at him again, she seemed uncertain. "Did we get them?"

He nodded. "Every single one of them."

Andrea frowned and nodded, remembering the attack and trying to add all the numbers in her head. "Did we lose anyone? I've only seen you, Daryl, and Carol. Is Glenn okay?"

"Glenn is fine, sweetheart," Rick said. The pet name made them both too aware but he was only shocked by how right it felt to call her that. "We're all fine. You were the only casualty."

She nodded, taking in his words. This wouldn't have happened had she not been so stupid and she mentally scolded herself as his fingers offered her hand strokes of comfort for the hell he knew she was putting herself through mentally.

She looked at their hands again and frowned slightly at his ring finger. She looked at him questioningly. "What happened?"

Rick smiled. "We..." He sighed, not knowing how to explain it. Not wanting her anywhere near this heavy weight. He kept it simple. "It's been over for a while."

"I'm sorry," she told him sympathetically.

"Don't be," he said, sighing. "She had a lawyer and all that, we were ready to call it quits. Then the turn happened."

Andrea wished she could move from that bed, because she felt an overwhelming need to reach for him and hold him close. But she only had enough energy to talk. If that. "How's Carl?"

Rick smiled at the mention of his son. "He's fine. He might come by later and bug you for a bit."

She chuckled. "I'd like that." He smiled and she closed her eyes for a bit and drifted away, then came back. Rick knew he should probably get her to get some sleep, but he greedily enjoyed every moment. "Hershel apologized earlier."

"Yeah?" he said, kissing her hand again. Wishing he could kiss her lips instead but at her request he fought the urge.

"Guess he had to get rough," Andrea said, bringing her other hand to his head and running her fingers through his black hair. Whether it was the effects of the Percocet or not, he didn't know, but it felt too good.

Rick pressed his forehead to her shoulder. He couldn't lie to her, but couldn't bring himself to look at her, either. Not when he remembered that mess of a surgery.

"I'm glad I wasn't awake for that," she sighed.

"I wish I hadn't been," he confessed to her.

"That bad, huh?"

He looked at her. Thinking, yeah, that bad. It was really fucking bad. Two truths had enveloped him as she'd laid there bleeding to death on that field. The first truth: she was going to die. The second truth: he loved her. A hidden third truth: he loved her and she was going to die and he was never going to be able to tell her.

"Just don't get shot again. Okay?"

Andrea smiled warmly. "I'll try."

He stayed there, watching her open and close her eyes and he knew before her when she was drifting off. Finally, she whispered, "Rick, I'm tired."

"Okay," he said. Carefully, _very_ carefully, he removed each pillow from behind her back, scared he might hurt her, until only one remained. He laid her back and sat next to her again. He thought she was gone, until her eyes opened again.

Andrea smiled. "You don't have to stay. There's stuff you need to be doing."

She was right, and he knew that. He needed to gather the group for a meeting. He needed to go out there and help reinforce the fences. He needed to go out with Daryl and find out who these people were. There were so many things he needed to do, and she knew that.

But being by her seemed so important. "Just 'til you fall asleep, then."

She gave him another weak smile, her eyes closed this time. "Okay."

It didn't take long. 3 seconds and she was out. Carol came back in with a plate of food and Rick gulfed it down with a hunger so ferocious he nearly ate the plate, too. After breakfast he made Carol promise to keep him informed of everything. She agreed, but he still didn't trust how easily Andrea had influenced her. So he got Carl involved, too. Carl's mission was to check in on Andrea every hour and report back should something go awry. And Beth's mission was to make sure Carl didn't get distracted from his mission. It was a complicated scheme.

Carl never came out to find him. There was so much to do. The whole day he spent helping the group fix the fence, checking and examining each one of the bodies of the group that had tried to overtake them, planning with Daryl and Glenn for future intrusions.

By the time he was able to get away, it was nighttime.

He felt like shit when he entered her room. He walked in apologizing but Andrea gave him a look and said, "Oh, hush."

Rick frowned.

She huffed. "Sit down, stop stuttering. Tell me about your day. Who were they?"

He did as she told. He was still confused. Why wasn't she mad at him? He was so used to being yelled at that it took him a moment to get his mind on track.

"Um, well, we don't know," he said as he sat down and his hand reached for hers without his permission. He didn't even think about it. Suddenly their fingers were tangled together and it was right. "I don't think it's like the Governor, though. It's been two days and no one's come to claim them. I think they were just stragglers."

Andrea nodded at the information. God, she wanted to be out there again, fighting with them. "You sure?"

He took a deep breath and let it out. "I think so. I set Daryl out to track them. He'll be back in the morning with more news."

She swallowed the information for a few seconds. "I'm just worried."

"I know," he said, bringing her hand to his lips once again to reassure her. "Me too. I can't lie to you, Andrea, I just don't know."

She smiled. "Thanks."

There was a knock on the door and she looked up. "Come in." They both looked up and both smiled when T-Dog peaked his head in.

"Hey, sugar."

Andrea smiled widely at him. "Hey."

"Got you some stuff," T-Dog said as he stepped in, carrying a small box. He placed it by the foot of the bed, all focused on it. When he threw a glance at Andrea he finally noticed the person sitting at her periphery. He didn't seem at all surprised. "Oh, hey Rick."

Rick smiled at the man with a nod, and smiled at the realization that at that moment he was kind of invisible. T-Dog didn't bat an eyelash at seeing him there and he felt so relieved. Like it was something normal to see Rick there, holding Andrea's hand and pressing it to his mouth every few seconds. He'd been so worried about the drama that this might've caused, but so far no one seemed to give a shit.

That made four, then. Daryl, Hershel, Carol, and T-Dog. Who else knew? Lori certainly did. Who else? Did Carl know? How would Carl feel about this? And how long had they known?

"What'd you get?" Andrea inquired.

"Uhhh, went out with Glenn and Maggie earlier. Man, those kids can run," T-Dog sighed. Andrea chuckled and Rick smiled. Nobody wanted to tell T-Dog that maybe he just needed to get in shape.

T-Dog dropped the box by her feet, dug into it and spilled several books onto the bed. "Bam! Harry Potter." He looked to Rick for support. "Girls love that shit, right?"

Rick just shrugged his shoulders with a smile. The hell should he know? Carl had never really taken to it. All he knew of Harry Potter was that it was a kid's book from England.

But when Andrea grinned he kissed her hand again. And T-Dog didn't seem to care. God, he was so relieved.

"I love Harry Potter!" she said.

"Well, that's parts one," T-Dog said, inching closer to read the side of the few books, "uh, three, four, and seven. I can go back and get you the rest. They were right there. I just didn't know about the numbers til Maggie explained."

Andrea grinned at him. T-Dog was one of her closest, dearest friends. "Thanks, T."

"Oh, I'm not done," T-Dog added, digging into the box again and showing her a jar. "Peanut butter. Hershel said you need calories. But," he dug into the box again to show her a bag. "Oreos. Cause eating these without peanut butter was a crime back in my hood."

Andrea gaped at him. "You brought me Oreos and Harry Potter? Rick, I'm replacing you."

Rick chuckled, even though he didn't get the joke. What? With Lori, he always had to bring home flowers and jewelry to make her happy. He never had to bring home books and Oreos. He flinched and made a mental note to stop comparing Andrea to Lori. It wasn't fair to either of them.

T-Dog stayed for a few minutes, showering Andrea with love and attention and Rick stepped back mentally to watch them interact. At that moment, he felt kinda guilty. Andrea had formed so many intimate relationships. She was intimate with Carol, her adoptive mother. She was close with Glenn, her baby brother. She was close with T-Dog and Daryl, her best friends. Maggie always came to her for girl advice. She'd even taken Beth under her wing, trying to teach her how to handle a gun. He was shocked by how much closer she was to the rest of the group. He wasn't close to them like that. He wasn't even close to Lori or Carl. Lori was in his past and Carl's development was getting away from him. Andrea had a pull on everyone, and he admired that so much.

"I can't believe he brought me Harry Potter," she told him seconds after T-Dog left. "Amy loved these. She was so into them. She was just a kid, though. But I read the first few to her, when she was just a baby."

"Never read them." Truthfully he was more excited about the Oreos and peanut butter. T-Dog had been right. Eating Oreos without peanut butter should be a crime. He grabbed the bag and opened it greedily.

"Are you serious?"

"Yup." He reached for the peanut butter and dunk one of the cookies in it. "Carl never really liked reading. He was more into Legos."

She sat there trying to explain the plot and truthfully, it sounded like a bunch of rubbish to Rick but he listened anyway. The minute he took a bite out of that cookie he made a mental vow to find T-Dog later and kiss him. It'd been so long since he ate one of these and the flavors exploded in his mouth and made him salivate. He knew Andrea did need the calories, but suddenly he worried he'd eat the whole bag of cookies by the time she made it through book one.

By the time she finished she was so exhausted, and he was so full, that he knew they both needed to rest.

"I hope I can get out of this bed tomorrow," she told him, still hugging book one to her chest.

"We'll see what Hershel says," Rick replied. "You want me to get Carol?"

Andrea dismissed the thought with a shake of her head and a frown. "No. Let her rest, for God's sake. I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"Rick," she warned him.

"Alright, alright," he said with a chuckle. "Good night, then. I'll be back in the morning."

She looked at him disbelievingly and rolled her eyes playfully. "Good night."

When he leaned closer she prepared herself for _the_ kiss. She even bit the side of her lower lip in anticipation. But instead of kissing her lips, he kissed her forehead. She thought it strange, suddenly. After their talk in the woods, him staying by her side while she was gone, the hundreds of times he'd kissed her hands in a loving way... he couldn't even give her a kiss?

When he pulled back she smiled, but her smile turned into a frown as she watched him go. What the hell?

_TBC_


	5. Chapter 5

_Thanks, everyone for all your kind reviews! This is coming to an end soon. I re-watched the necklace scene today. Man alive, how Rick kept looking at her! He was totally giving her the flirty eye.  
_

* * *

Rick wasn't ready for the sight that greeted him the next day.

First he heard the giggling and he recognized the voices right away. When he opened the door he suddenly wished he'd had a camera but committed the sight to memory instead. Andrea sat up against her pillows again, and she had Carl in an embrace on her good side. She had Harry Potter on her lap and was reading it to his son. They were both so engrossed in it that they didn't even hear him come in.

Rick put his hands on his hips and watched them. He felt it in his heart and his eyes nearly moistened. He was surprised by how right they looked there together. He felt the urge to join them but he didn't wanna ruin the picture. Carl and Andrea were good friends, and this moment belonged to them regardless of what he and Andrea had (undefined as it remained).

Suddenly, Carl looked up and noticed him. "Hi, dad!"

"Hey, bud."

"Morning," Andrea told him and his smile widened.

"Morning." He walked over and occupied the chair again.

"Dad, this book is _awesome_!" Carl told him.

Rick ruffled his son's hair. "Thought you didn't like reading."

Carl rolled his eyes. "I'm not reading, dad, Andrea is."

Rick and Andrea chuckled as Carl began to tell his father all about Hogwarts and the Sorting Hat and magic. Suddenly he got so excited that his body felt a huge wave of energy and he bounced in place, but the motion made Andrea flinch painfully.

"Carl, be careful!" Rick scolded him, sounding a little meaner and louder than he'd intended. He felt like shit right away. Lori was in charge of the discipline because he always felt so guilty when he had to scold his son. He hadn't meant to sound so scary.

Carl flinched at his father's thunderous voice and turned around with a concerned look. He hadn't known what he was being scolded for but Andrea's expression said it all and his body shied away from hers in fear. "I'm sorry, Andrea."

She forced herself to chuckle for his sake. "It's okay, sweetie."

"I didn't mean to hurt you," Carl cried.

Andrea smiled despite the horrible pain. "You didn't hurt me; I'm fine."

Carl turned to Rick with a pleading look. "I'm sorry, dad."

Rick smiled at him. "You didn't do anything wrong, bud." But as he looked at Andrea he could tell she was in real pain. But she didn't want to make a fuss out of it, so he comforted his son instead. "I'm sorry, I overreacted. Just... you need to be careful with her, okay?"

"Okay," Carl said and turned to her with an expression on his face that begged for forgiveness, "I'll be careful, Andrea."

She smiled at him warmly. "Thanks, sweetie."

But Carl continued to look at her with concern. "Are you tired?"

"Little bit."

"Can we read some more tomorrow?"

Andrea smiled. "Of course."

Carl turned to his father. "Dad?"

"Why don't you go play with Beth for a while?"

"Kay," Carl said, carefully hopping off the bed and turning to Andrea. He gave her a kiss on the cheek and hugged his father before he ran off.

Rick looked at her. "I'm sorry about that."

Andrea dismissed him with a wave of her hand. "Oh, I'm fine."

"You need your meds?" He reached for the bottle of Percocet to inspect it. It had belonged to a Lindsay Carr.

"Nah, that stuff makes me drowsy and nauseous," Andrea said, making a face at the bottle.

So he put it away. "Thank you for reading to him."

Andrea smiled. "Just so you know, he asked me to be his girlfriend and I said yes."

Rick laughed. "Dammit, sneaky bastard."

"Yeah, he kinda beat you to it, there," she teased him, reveling in the way his cheeks turned red. "You're too slow, buddy."

"Oh well," Rick chuckled and suddenly felt kinda shy and the red in his cheeks deepened. "We'll just have to share, then. If that's okay with you?"

She chuckled, seeking his hand. This time _her_ cheeks turned red. "Yeah, that's fine."

He knew what he was asking her and she knew, too. He was asking her to take him and Carl in, to be theirs. He knew it was too soon, but fucking hell. Too soon, too late... if they'd learned something from this world is that you can't take things for granted. Any second could veer your life in a different direction, or end it altogether. He was sick of wasting time and not living. It felt right and that's all he cared about.

He went on about his day, coming back at noon but she was sleeping. Daryl returned in the morning to announce the group that attacked them had all perished, and he also came back with a new problem. People.

Rick analyzed Abraham. The man was at least six inches taller than him, broad and muscular. Carl would describe him as the Hulk. When he spoke, his voice was deep and commanding. Rick didn't trust him as far as he could throw him, which, considering the man's size, would probably be less than an inch, if he even managed to pick him up. Every time he got angry the girl next to him would squeeze his hand and he'd calm down. Rick understood, having relied on Andrea so many times to keep him together.

The other man with them didn't look like a threat. Daryl explained to Rick that this man, Eugene, was a scientist, knew how the virus started, and Abraham was escorting him to DC so he could get together with his colleagues to find a cure.

He didn't look physically threatening, but Rick certainly didn't trust him, either, because the man refused to answer his one and only question, "how _did_ it start?"

He claimed it was top secret and even Daryl looked like he wasn't buying that bullshit. Rick didn't buy it, either. But Abraham clearly did.

He kept a close eye on them all day, knowing Daryl wouldn't have brought them if they were a threat. But they'd been fooled before and he couldn't let that happen again. Rick trusted his people and his people only. Everyone else he considered an enemy and at this point in the game he was more than willing to kill the living as well as the dead.

But he allowed them to stay, if only because Abraham had been a soldier of war. Both Rick and Abraham had fought and lost for this country, and he knew Abraham took that honor seriously. They were brothers. Not the same way he and Daryl were brothers. They were brothers in arms.

"I heard voices," Andrea told him that night.

"Yeah," he said, grabbing that familiar chair and pulling it close. "We got company."

Her face worried. "They're back?"

"No," he told her quickly. "Different people. Three of them. Two guys and a girl."

Andrea nodded, trying to picture the trio but she couldn't. Three people? Just three people? They'd never run into a group that small. "Who are they?"

"Abraham has been leading them all the way from Texas."

Her eyes opened to the size of saucers. "Texas?"

"Yeah, can you believe it?" he said, looking at her fingers as he played with them. "They've made it this far."

Andrea digested the words. "Who else?"

"Rosita," Rick said. "Cute little Spanish girl. Couldn't weigh more than 90 pounds. Even Carol could take her. And Eugene, some kind of scientist trying to get to DC. He claims he knows how the virus started, but I don't know."

She mulled the information over and looked at him, worried again. Andrea had two roles in Rick's life. In the hierarchy of the group, she was his brains, his voice of reason. Daryl was his right hand man. The three of them had kept this group alive for so long that it was easy for her to slip into her leadership role when needed. And then there was also the intimate role. That role also kept Rick together, but in a different way.

Logical Andrea took over. She always did under the weight of a new threat. "Rick, are you trusting them?"

"No," he said and sighed. "Not yet, but they gave us all their weapons. Said they just needed a place to stay the night."

She shook her head. "That doesn't mean anything, could be a trick. That's happened before, you know that."

"I know. The guy, Abraham, he has a bit of a temper, but..." he sighed again, rubbing his tired eyes. "I don't know, Andrea. They seem okay. Daryl and T-Dog are keeping an eye on them tonight; we'll talk more in the morning. I'm too tired right now. I'm just..."

Her eyebrows worried as she looked at him there so tired and defeated. She recognized that need in him again and gripped at his hand, pulling it close to kiss it like he'd kissed hers so many times. She saw how tired he was and she just wanted to be better so she could hold him and take care of him. But she was still in pain, and offered the little she could. "Will you stay?"

Rick eyed the recliner. "Of course."

"No," Andrea said, patting a spot next to her. "Here?"

He looked at the spot and suddenly felt a rush of fear. Were they really ready for that? Sex was one thing, but this felt way more intimate; felt like a huge commitment. Not that they'd never slept next to each other before, being in the trenches together for a year. Plenty of times they had to lay on the ground next to each other as they guarded the group that stayed behind in their comfortable beds. Hell, he'd even shared a bed with Daryl at one point. You do what you gotta do to survive. Modesty all but ended with the old world.

But this was different, so he hesitated. Would he be able to keep his hands to himself if he slept with her? What if he hurt her in the middle of the night? He tended to move a lot. And what if Rick Jr. woke up before him? How would he handle _that_ awkwardness?

His exhaustion made the decision for him. He'd had such a stressful week, with her getting shot, the assailants, reinforcing this random house they'd found, dealing with the end of his marriage, dealing with those strangers. He needed her and suddenly knew that's why she'd asked him to stay. She knew he needed the comfort and rest that her presence always gave him. Lying a few feet away from his new roommate T-Dog would deny him those comforts. That man's snoring sounded like a bear roaring.

"Yeah," he said with a smile. "Let me get out of these clothes first, I'll be right back."

She was lying on her good side when he returned. He crawled in carefully and yikes, the nerves that took over. In 12 years he'd only laid next to one woman and towards the end they slept so far away from each other he practically needed a megaphone to say goodnight. So he was a little rusty. Not to mention that just a few days prior Andrea had been just a friend. Their relationship didn't start in the usual way. Boy meets girl, boy likes girl, boy asks girl out, etc. Their relationship was so weird and backwards, full of twists and turns and with no clear path. In the old world this would've been like a 5th date kinda thing. In this new world it was undefined, just like everything else.

Andrea reached for his hand and pulled it to wrap his arm around her waist. It was a little weird at first, he thought, probably because he was so nervous. She didn't seem nervous, though. She snuggled her back against his chest and he sought to look at her face but it was hidden away from him and he sensed her trepidation right away. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

He nudged her knowingly, his nerves forgotten. They did this best. It was probably the reason why they'd ended in each other's radar. Somehow they always knew when they needed each other. "Come on."

She made a face and looked towards the dresser. Really didn't wanna get all emotional but that thing had been sitting there for hours and its presence was bothering her. "Daryl brought me my gun today," she told him, pointing at the dresser. "It's over there."

Rick understood and worried. As a cop, he couldn't remember the many times he'd had to see a counselor after a shooting. Even in this new world, it's not something you just get over. He pressed a kiss to her shoulder and held her tighter. "Are you having nightmares?"

"No," she said. "It just made me remember, that's all."

"I'm sorry."

Andrea nodded, remembering it. It'd been so painful, so terrifying to be lying there on the ground bleeding away to death. So petrifying when the seconds continued to pass and there was nothing she or he could do. So devastating towards the end when she knew she was going to die, just like that, so... easily. Just a bullet, and then bang! Life is over. "It was scary."

"It _was_ scary," he agreed.

"I thought that was gonna be it, and I just kept thinking..." she said, and turned to face him, upsetting her injury. But she was starting to get used to the pain. "I didn't wanna die, Rick. I thought I'd want to, but... I didn't. I couldn't go."

He smiled at her and pressed his forehead to hers. "I'm glad you didn't."

The gesture brought their mouths way too close, yet still nothing happened. She frowned at his chest for a second before she looked at him again. "Rick?"

"Yeah?"

Andrea hesitated but then encouraged herself. "How come you haven't kissed me yet?"

Rick chuckled and his cheeks blushed. "You asked me not to."

She frowned. "When?"

"When you woke up that first night," he told her. "Apparently High Andrea has this romantic notion of the perfect first kiss and wants me to wait. I couldn't deny her that."

She chuckled and felt relief. So that was why. She tried to imagine the moment but simply couldn't. It didn't sound like something she would say. "High Andrea must read a lot of Harlequin."

"I think so," he said, pressing his lips to her forehead. Truthfully, he'd been frustrated by her request, but now it made sense. He didn't want their first kiss linked to the memories of her being shot. He wanted their first kiss to happen under better, happier, circumstances. "It's okay. I kinda like that. I'll kiss you when it's perfect. Promise."

Andrea smiled, but knew she'd probably end up kissing him instead, at the most random moment, under the weirdest circumstances. Impulsiveness was her thing. "Okay."

"Go to sleep. What did Hershel say?"

"He doesn't think it'll get infected."

"Good, cause I need there when I interrogate them tomorrow," Rick said, patting her hip. "We gotta make sure these people are good and maybe you'll see something I didn't."

She bit the side of her lip for a second. "You think I can?"

"I know you can."

Andrea sighed. She'd been able to get up and walk for a bit today with Carol's help. Would she be able to do more? She was desperate to get out of bed, but was she ready to go out there? What if a fight broke out? Could she fight back? Maybe, maybe not. But Rick believed in her and that's all the encouragement she needed.

So she gave him a hesitant smile and nodded. "Okay."

"Alright," he said. "Sleep tight, I'll be right here."

She fell asleep feeling safe.

_TBC_


	6. Chapter 6

Rick tried to read everyone's faces as they all sat in the living room with their three new guests.

Glenn looked apprehensive as usual and Daryl disinterested. Abraham seemed much calmer today but Rick was still weary. The guy was massive and Rick knew saying the wrong thing might end up in disaster.

He looked at Andrea. She didn't have her eyes on Abraham but on Eugene and Rick knew there was something about that guy he couldn't trust. But he knew even Carl could take that guy down. He was weak, flabby and grossly overweight.

"Look, we can pull our own weight around," Abraham said. "We just need to regroup before we get going again. I noticed your fences. Pretty dangerous, with your women and children here. We can help rebuild."

Rick considered this. He knew Abraham could either be a strong ally or a deadly enemy. He looked around the room once more and no one seemed to want to say anything. In the end it was Hershel who finally turned to him with a nod. "I trusted you, once."

Frankly, he owed Hershel so much, and knew the old man was wise. He finally relented. "Alright. One week. We keep the guns unless you have to use them."

"Deal," Abraham said and Rick prayed to God he was making the right call.

* * *

"Looks good," Hershel told her as he inspected her wound. Andrea winced, looking at it. It didn't look so good to her. It was hideous and still green and purple. And it hurt like a bitch. But she was so sick of being in bed all day.

"Are you handing me my discharge papers?"

Hershel chuckled. "You could say that. Just take it easy for a few days." When Rick let himself into the room Hershel gave her a knowing smile. "If you can."

Andrea rolled her eyes. Dirty old man.

"If you can what?" Rick asked, but Hershel just laughed and Andrea shook her head, her cheeks coloring a little.

"Nothing."

"She's in the clear," Hershel said.

"Thanks, Hershel," he said as he watched the old man go. He turned to Andrea. "What was that about?"

"Nothing," she chuckled.

"Was he being a pervert?"

She laughed as he walked over and pulled her up from bed. Instantly her arms came around him and he kissed her neck, pressing her close and feeling the fire immediately. Andrea nudged him. "He didn't give us the clear for _that_."

Rick smiled. Waking up with her had been pretty perfect, but he'd practically had to run to take a cold shower. He just didn't trust himself and his wandering hands around her, and judging by the way she gripped him back he knew she couldn't trust herself, either. Maybe they should re-consider their sleeping arrangements for the time being.

"You think I made the right call?"

She pulled back to look at him. "That girl weighs 90 pounds soaking wet, and judging by the size of the other one's gut, I'd say we could take them. If they were looking for trouble they would've found it already."

He considered her words, mulling it over. He couldn't help it, though, not so soon after the others had attacked.

"Rick, we can't just stop living," she told him when he worried.

He smiled. She was right. He was fighting to keep them alive yet at the end of the day, he wasn't really living. Hell he'd nearly lost her just days prior and he felt like he was given a second chance he's not gonna waste.

* * *

In the end, it was Andrea who couldn't wait any longer, unsurprisingly.

They were admiring the new fence, feeling relaxed for the first time in months.

She didn't say anything. Just gave him a knowing smile and he understood.

_He_ didn't really kiss her. They kissed each other. He didn't grab her in his arms in a grand romantic gesture. He walked up to her and she walked up to him. And when he put his hands to the sides of her face, she put hers on his hips. When he leaned in, she leaned in, too.

The minute he kissed her, or they kissed each other, he knew right away. There had never been a doubt, but this sealed it. Her lips were warm, soft, and he was surprised by how quickly they found a rhythm together. Just as he began to itch to explore the inside of her mouth she opened her lips for him like she could read his mind.

It was sweet, he realized. But the sweet quickly turned to hot when she moaned and he felt the reverberations down below. Every time she ran her fingers through his hair, it did something to him. He'd never known that about himself. He'd never known until she did it and now, wow. She was going to have to keep doing that. A lot.

Andrea pulled back slightly and did a little breathy thing that made him feel even crazier. "Let's go back," she said, her voice lustful and that lust wasn't lost on him nor was the way she was biting her lower lip.

Rick raised his eyebrows at her suggestion. "Now?"

"Yeah, now," she told him, grabby hands wandering. "Why not?"

Rick smiled against her mouth. "I thought you'd wanna wait."

She kissed the corner of his mouth and pressed herself to him. "Why would I wanna wait, Rick?" He didn't reply and when he didn't, she pulled back a little to look at him. "Do _you_ wanna wait?"

He grinned. "_Hell_ no."

"I think we've waited long enough," she said and kissed him one last time. "Give me a five minute head start and meet me in my room."

"Okay," Rick said, didn't know why they had to sneak around. He and Lori were done. But he understood her need for privacy. Too much gossip in this group and Andrea hated gossip.

It was hard to watch her go and even harder to wait. Those 5 minutes stretched for a lifetime. He kept looking at his watch, willing that needle to move faster. But he swore he saw it jump back a few times. He almost crushed his watch at one point.

Five minutes on the dot, he was walking back to the house. A few of the members were tending to the garden. Carl and Glenn were playing together. He rolled his eyes when he saw Abraham and Lori walking side by side off in the distance. Whatever. It didn't bother him and it didn't surprise him. Abraham was just Lori's type; big, strong, manly, protective. He wished Abraham all the luck in the world and jogged up the steps to the house.

Carol was in the kitchen cooking, but she didn't notice him. He reached her door and suddenly felt nervous. Like a kid going on his first date or like he was about to lose his virginity or something. He only had to knock once, and the door opened, she reached for his arm and pulled him inside.

Before he knew what was happening their lips meshed together. He gripped her tight around the waist to pull her close and she stood on her tip toes, hands on his forearms for support.

"What took you so long?"

"You said five minutes," he gasped against her. "I waited five minutes."

Andrea laughed. "You _actually_ used your watch, didn't you?"

"You said five minutes!"

"Figure of speech, Rick!"

He laughed and turned her around, pinning her against the door, pressing himself to her thigh and they both moaned.

She peeled his shirt off and threw it off to the side to join the mess of clothes that were always on the floor. He brushed his lips against her neck and she undid the button of his pants, dragging the zipper halfway down and reaching inside his boxers to grab him.

He groaned against her and stilled her hand. "Andrea, _slow_ down."

She growled in frustration and he chuckled, gripping her waist tight and picking her up. She wrapped her legs around him and he began his way towards the bed, but it was like a freaking obstacle course and he stumbled several times.

"God, do you ever clean this room?"

"Hush," she punished his criticism by biting his lower lip but he moaned in pleasure, lowering her onto the bed and climbing on top of her. With her legs wrapped around his waist there was no way to be polite or gentlemanly. He pressed himself down on her and they both moaned again.

"Don't let me hurt you," he whispered at her. "Okay?"

"You won't."

So he did it one more time, and once more after that, feeling like a teenager humping his first girlfriend on the back of his old Chevy Nova.

But he couldn't help it. It felt so delicious and he was so hungry, so eager to bite her and taste her everywhere. He'd been wanting it for so long, had fantasized about her so many times, hell, had jerked up to thoughts of her so often that in the end he no longer felt any shame.

But it'd been different, his fantasizes. In his fantasies he'd taken her for granted. Way too much, because the real Andrea wasn't the innocent flower he'd always imagined. She was quite the opposite; aggressive, assertive, did whatever she wanted without any shame. She met him thrust for thrust, bit back when he bit, touched whatever she wanted to touch without asking permission.

It was driving him crazy. They hadn't done anything yet and already he began to worry he wouldn't last much longer.

Suddenly, a knock on the door made them jump. "Andrea?"

_Shit_.

Andrea sighed. It was Glenn. The knob began to turn and she panicked, and yelled out the first thing that came to mind. "Don't come in, I'm naked!"

"Oh, sorry," Glenn said, and then pulled the door close quickly. "Uh, have you seen Rick?"

Rick rolled his eyes, sighing in frustration against Andrea's neck.

"No," Andrea replied.

"Okay," Glenn said, and they heard his footsteps fade away.

Rick lay there for a second, breathing her skin. Andrea turned her head towards him. "Should you go check that out?"

"Let them figure it out by themselves for once," Rick told her, kissing the side of her neck but something was off now. The heat, it was gone. He groaned against her skin.

"Goddamn it. _Fuck_."

"What?" Andrea said, concerned. Rick wasn't the swearing type.

He sighed again. "Bunch of cockblockers."

Andrea chuckled as he rolled on his back, eyes closed and lips pressed tight in annoyance. The blood ceased to flow down below and rushed to his head instead. "Fuck," he repeated.

She leaned on her elbow and captured his mouth with hers. "You should go check it out, anyway. I think Daryl's out hunting."

Rick sighed again, groaning in frustration. "This better be a _catastrophe_."

"You know it won't be," she told him as she passed him his shirt. "Glenn probably needs help tying his shoes."

He groaned when he realized she was probably right. Rick debated whether he should stay or go. He could get the erection back, he knew he could. But he could hear Glenn outside now, asking Abraham, _'have you seen Rick?'_ and he knew that even if he could, it would have to be quick. And he didn't want it to be quick. He wanted it to be slow so he could explore and taste every inch of her.

So he sighed again.

"Tonight, okay?" she told him and he looked at her and smiled. Tonight couldn't come fast enough.

Andrea lay in bed and closed her eyes as she listened to the conversation outside. She smiled when she heard his voice.

"What do you want, Glenn?"

"Oh, hey, Rick. I was looking for you," Glenn said.

"What do you need?"

She could see his stance in her mind; hands on his hips, a frown on his face, looking away from Glenn and fighting the urge to strangle the kid, jaw clenched.

"The new fence?" Glenn said. "Should we paint it yellow or green?"

"Oh, goddamn it, Glenn!"

Andrea laughed and pressed her nose to her pillow, where his scent still lingered.

The End

* * *

Hope you guys enjoyed this and thanks for the reviews! I'm working on another piece now because we need to get more Rick/Andrea fics out there! Come on, guys, write! :D


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